The Firm Page 0,53

a Red Stripe and sat by himself in a dark corner of the patio. The beach in front of him was deserted. The lights of a dozen boats moved slowly across the water. Behind him were the sounds of the Barefoot Boys and the laughter of the Caribbean night.

Nice,he thought, but it would be nicer with Abby. Maybe they would vacation here next summer. They needed time together, away from home and the office.There was a distance between them - distance he could not define. Distance they could not discuss but both felt. Distance he was afraid of.

"What are you watching?" The voice startled him. She walked to the table and sat next to him. She was a native, dark skin with blue or hazel eyes. It was impossible to tell in the dark. But they were beautiful eyes, warm and uninhibited. Her dark curly hair was pulled back and hung almost to her waist. She was an exotic mixture of black, white and probably Latin. And probably more. She wore a white bikini top cut very low and barely covering her large breasts and a long, brightly colored skirt with a slit to the waist that exposed almost everything when she sat and crossed her legs. No shoes.

"Nothing, really," Mitch said.

She was young, with a childish smile that revealed perfect teeth. "Where are you from?" she asked.

"The States."

She smiled and chuckled. "Of course you are. Where in the States?" It was the soft, gentle, precise, confident English of the Caribbean.

" Memphis."

"A lot of people come here from Memphis. A lot of divers."

"Do you live here?" he asked.

"Yes. All my life. My mother is a native. My father is from England. He's gone now, back to where he came from."

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

"Yes. Rum and soda."

He stood at the bar and waited for the drinks. A dull, nervous something throbbed in his stomach. He could slide into the darkness, disappear into the crowd and find his way to the safety of the condo. He could lock the door and read a book on international tax havens. Pretty boring. Plus, Avery was there by now with his hot little number. The girl was harmless, the rum and Red Stripe told him. They would have a couple of drinks and say good night.

He returned with the drinks and sat across from the girl, as far away as possible. They were alone on the patio.

"Are you a diver?" she asked.

"No. Believe it or not, I'm here on business. I'm a lawyer, and I have meetings with some bankers in the morning."

"How long will you be here?"

"Couple of days." He was polite, but short. The less he said, the safer he would be. She recrossed her legs and smiled innocently. He felt weak.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"I'm twenty, and my name is Eilene. I'm old enough."

"I'm Mitch." His stomach flipped and he felt lightheaded. He sipped rapidly on his beer. He glanced at his watch.

She watched with that same seductive smile. "You're very handsome."

This was unraveling in a hurry. Keep cool, he told himself, just keep cool.

"Thank you."

"Are you an athlete?"

"Sort of. Why do you ask?"

"You look like an athlete. You're very muscular and firm." It was the way she emphasized "firm" that made his stomach flip again. He admired her body and tried to think of some compliment that would not be suggestive. Forget it.

"Where do you work?" he asked, aiming for less sensual areas.

"I'm a clerk in a jewelry store in town."

"Where do you live?"

"In Georgetown. Where are you staying?"

"A condo next door." He nodded in the direction, and she looked to her left. She wanted to see the condo, he could tell. She sipped on her drink.

"Why aren't you at the party?" she asked.

"I'm not much on parties."

"Do you like the beach?"

"It's beautiful."

"It's prettier in the moonlight." That smile, again.

He could say nothing to this.

"There's a better bar about a mile down the beach," she said. "Let's go for a walk."

"I don't know, I should get back. I've got some work to do before morning."

She laughed and stood. "No one goes in this early in the Caymans. Come on. I owe you a drink."

"No. I'd better not."

She grabbed his hand, and he followed her off the patio onto the beach. They walked in silence until the Palms was out of sight and the music was growing dimmer. The moon was overhead and brighter now, and the beach was deserted. She unsnapped something and removed her skirt, leaving